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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933009">borne of blood and sand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBeetle/pseuds/BumbleBeetle'>BumbleBeetle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dominion (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>10 Plagues, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Angels Are Known, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angel &amp; Human Interactions, Angel Family, Angel Wings, Angel/Human Relationships, Awkward Sexual Situations, BAMF Gabriel, BAMF Michael, BAMF Uriel, Bathing/Washing, Biblical Reinterpretation, Biblical Themes (Abrahamic Religions), Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking &amp; Talking, Dust Baths, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Gentleness, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Gabriel/Michael (Dominion &amp; Legion), Multi, Non-Sexual Slavery, Nudity, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, One-Sided Slow Burn, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other, Pansexual Gabriel, Pansexual Michael, Partial Nudity, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Polyamory, Polygamy, Pre-Extermination War, Protective Siblings, Public Nudity, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Tenderness, Undressing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wing Grooming, Wing Oil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:22:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBeetle/pseuds/BumbleBeetle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the almighty commands the conquering of earthen kingdoms.</p><p>chaos follows on raven wings when the gates of heaven open. gabriel's horn shatters the clouds, sends walls asunder. michael's blade rends flesh and bone. feathers whip sand into vortexes. death to the unbelievers, idolaters, and heretics. </p><p>amidst the carnage, archangels enjoy pleasures previously forbidden. having cast off the righteousness that shackles them. </p><p>free will is what they make of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gabriel &amp; Michael (Dominion &amp; Legion), Gabriel (Dominion &amp; Legion)/Original Female Character, Gabriel/Michael (Dominion), Michael (Dominion &amp; Legion)/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Raphael (Dominion)/Original Female Character, Uriel (Dominion)/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>borne of blood and sand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I HAVE NOT GIVEN PERMISSION TO ANY PLATFORM OTHER THAN ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN TO HOST MY WORK. IF THIS WORK IS FOUND ON ANY OUTSIDE APP THEN THEY HAVE STOLEN MY CONTENT AND ARE USING IT TO PROFIT WITHOUT MY CONSENT.</p><p> </p><p>( rough draft, excuse errors and mistakes )<br/>( will come back to edit, TBC! )</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>grimy, battered, and exhausted, gabriel and michael both stride inside their tent after sacking cities by their Father's command, flaps trembling whilst tiny brass bells chime. the sun sets, casting a hazy glow, making streaks appear like cascading rivers. the inside is cooler than scorching sand, aided by gentle zephyrs. incense and spices hang heavy, bowls and platters overflowing with meats, cheeses, and wine. <br/>michael is the first to disrobe, his armor coming free. those blue eyes wander, taking in the assembled.</p><p>"Because our hands are stained in your kin's blood, you dare not approach? For shame. Be grateful you are not among the dying, instead sharing in our bounteous wealth and bedsides." gabriel voices, accusatory sternness coloring his tone. he stands like a sentinel, arms folded across his chest, dark hair twisted from battle. </p><p>an anxious murmur travels through those gathered, passing by her ear, many a gaze flitting between both. all had witnessed the brutal, bloody carnage. naught but pain, bitterness, and misery brought to those who cast aside the prophets' teachings - and worship false idols, false deities.</p><p>
  <em>they're truly afraid.</em>
</p><p>Meira isn't. </p><p>as the last of her bloodline, she steels herself for whatever may come, and steps from the crowd. her garb is simple, unadorned with jewels and gold, her hair cut short. tufts stick out from where the wind's fingers had played. longer hair got her into trouble, or worse - killed. easy to grab; unbalance. <em>sinning to save her own skin, cropped locks forbidden by the holy books.</em></p><p>her nape prickles as their gazes alight upon her. she catches sight of their massive wings. ebony feathers speckled with golden sand glint, having emerged preemptively from their backs. the end-blades gleam, razor sharp. she swallows, mouth as dry as the desert beyond.</p><p>gabriel stares. it's not one of hunger, no - more curious than anything. <em>mirroring michael.</em> her heart beats so incredibly loud, she's sure everyone can hear. on trembling legs, she comes within inches of the celestial being.</p><p><em>up close, he looks no more a normal man than the rest.</em> her hands, they reach out, fingers wrapping around his belt. the leather chafes. she doesn't dare glance upwards, a hot flush rising from her neck, to ears, to cheeks.</p><p>his chest rises, and falls steadily. candles occasionally hiss, and crackle. the bells ring, swaying freely. his arms are lax by his sides, keeping out of her way. </p><p><em>is it because of honor? a sense of respect?</em> whatever the reason may be, she can't dwell on it. </p><p>she teases the belt from its clasp, edging closer to reach around, gathering it in short coils. one side's heavier, burdened by that wicked longsword. </p><p>she's so close, her forehead brushes the gold embellishment centering his torso. faintly she notices he smells of smoke, of sweat, and copper - which is blood. there's something else, too. sweet, with hints of tartness.</p><p><em>pomegranate and lemon.</em> those two she coveted, as they reminded her most of home. of lapping waves on windswept shores, of salty brine and soaring gulls. </p><p><em>he couldn't have known. she hadn't told anyone. not a waking soul. so how? had he the ability to read minds?</em> squeezing her eyes shut, she let a breath loose. anxiety overcame awe, icy claws seizing her heart. sensing sudden distress, his palm came to lay upon the crown of her head. fingers carded through, slow and tender. </p><p>briefly comforted, and yet, made painfully aware of what else needed to transpire. <em>the rest of his armor, caked in the viscera of his foes, still needed to come away.</em></p><p>sinking lower, her hand ran up his right calf. then left. tugging at the ties, shinguards joined his belt and armguards. rugged things constructed from material that hadn't quite molded correctly.</p><p>absently, something brushed against her body. she froze. in her peripheral, amorphous shapes became clearer. a handful of flexible pinions had curled in. the size of her forearm, pointed edges catching. </p><p><em>were they soft? or sharp? would he even allow her the chance to touch them to know?</em> </p><p>
  <em>no. no. she couldn't. temptation and sinners had a complex history. she wasn't about to become the eve to his lucifer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...or would she, for a taste of divinity? a drop of grace?</em>
</p><p>rising from her knees, she closes the space between. one hand skimming his thigh, his hip, sliding underneath his chestpiece.<em> there it is, again. sweet, and tart, but stronger. </em>her lips ghost his jaw, reaching over and across his shoulder. embroidered cloak-silk meets cool fingertips, planning on releasing both sides.</p><p>he shifts, minutely. <em>considerate of the height difference, perhaps? or wanting to get closer?</em></p><p>pressed against him, she can feel it. his breathing quickens as her fingers splay. she flushes a second time, sure to be red in the face. her balance falters as he moves, and gripping the cloak, she catches his bicep.</p><p>dropping her gaze, she quickly withdraws. the right clasp is easy once she focuses. the sheer fabric falls, rippling layers of crimson-on-gold. it pools at his feet. </p><p>
  <em>the closeness is dizzying. </em>
</p><p>her hands rest over his ribs, counting embossed petals in leather. her heart pounds. her fingers curl, fists clenching at linen.</p><p>
  <em>...she's got to finish what she started.</em>
</p><p>"Why do you hesitate? Loyalty, devotion, worship - you've more than proven yourself." that voice. rich, yet smooth. finally freed from the shackles of silence. <em>it nearly brings her back to her knees.</em></p><p>Meira's answer lies on the end of her tongue. she must tell him. <em>to not to would disrespect him. </em></p><p>"I am afraid," </p><p>"Of?" his question tightens about her like a noose, slowly cutting off means of escape. she's got no choice. </p><p>"Succumbing to temptation. Squandering graciously gifted free will."</p><p>his brows knit, mulling over her cryptic word choice. "Letting yourself lay with me. You want me. But, you're resisting."</p><p>"Yes," she responds, softer. </p><p>hungry flames cast shadows from outside. <em>the light and dark duality is mesmerizing, hypnotic.</em> a rough semicircle forms, with michael at its' head. angel and human alike crowd him. some sit with their backs facing the tent, others stripped of all clothing. raucous laughter follows.</p><p>they've taken to celebrating - leaving her and gabriel alone. the silence, aside from the whisper of wind, and tinkling of bells, is deafening.</p><p>"Then don't," he murmurs, cupping her cheek. his thumb lay on her lip. smoothing the rise. it trembles.</p><p>"See me as I see you. Made of flesh that aches, a heart that yearns." </p><p>he ghosts the curve of her neck. fingertips lingering on her pulse. heel resting above her collarbone. warmth soaks chilled skin. her blood thrums, blocking out other sound. her heart hammers like wild horse hooves.</p><p>she notes his head tilt; want masked by confusion. <em>neck exposed where she could lay kisses with ease.</em> <em>lick a stripe to his lower lip. begging to be tugged, nibbled, sucked. lavished with - </em></p><p>
  <em>no! enough! she is greater than the cravings of a sun-addled mind! </em>
</p><p>"I cannot do so," she says. "for it would be sacrilege." </p><p>he then withdraws his hand, taking heat with him.</p><p>
  <em>inwardly, Meira bemoans the loss. </em>
</p><p>she continues despite, rising on tiptoe - climbing his sandals? <em>childish.</em> she gives pause, thumbs under arching hoops. with tugging they uncurl like startled serpents, becoming smaller. a satisfied exhale leaves as she frees him of his chest plate. </p><p>next, she drops to one knee. he's left in shorn sandals, trousers, and tight undertunic. the coloring's lost its hue. his sleeves are in tatters. </p><p><em>sandals first? or his longer garments? </em>she settles on the former. </p><p>her hand curls under his calf, lifting the heel. the knots take diligent work to loosen. by the end, her fingers are red-tinged. covered in grainy clods of sand. the second is treated equally, rolling back pant-leg ends. <em>she knows he's watching, waiting.</em> her arms prickle with gooseflesh. his are clasped behind his back. </p><p>as she gravitates to the hem, there he stops her. hands rest upon slim shoulders. he then lifts her from a prostrated position. </p><p>"My lord, Gabriel - I need - I must continue. Your shirt is unclean. You are unclean as well. Drenched in grime and gore. It is my duty to see you rid of this filth - " interrupted, his finger is laid upon her lips. </p><p>
  <em>Meira's heart nearly stops. </em>
</p><p>"I am aware. You think me incapable of undressing?" he says, a brow cocked. she swallows, head giving a shake.</p><p>
  <em>it wouldn't be the first, witnessing the archangel's nakedness. public, and private washing had lost foreignness once adopted from the greeks.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>comments and kudos are appreciated! 💖</p></blockquote></div></div>
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